


Gloria, Broodmare

by FestivalGrey



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Bestiality, Breeding, Creampie, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Human/Pokemon Sex, Impregnation, Interspecies, Interspecies Sex, Lactation, Lactation Kink, Monster sex, Oral Sex, POV Female Character, Pokephilia, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Sex with Sentient Animals, Vaginal Sex, don't worry gloria gets out, pregnant with foals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27559927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestivalGrey/pseuds/FestivalGrey
Summary: "Glastrier, the Wild Horse pokemon. Glastrier emits intense cold from its hooves. It's also a belligerent pokemon—anything it wants, it takes by force."—Pokemon Sword dex entry.
Relationships: Gloria/Glastrier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 210





	Gloria, Broodmare

**Author's Note:**

> A story inspired by the new pokemon DLC, and the very nice horse pokemon within. In which Gloria finds out that she's what this belligerent pokemon wants. Don't worry, she turns things around—eventually.
> 
> Content warning for dubcon. Gloria is written as a young adult in this fic; she's of age.
> 
> Info about this story was posted two weeks early [on my Twitter!](https://twitter.com/FestivalGrey) Check me out if you're so inclined, I RT a lot of spicy pokemon art ;)

My name is Gloria. I’m the Champion of the Galar League—pride of her region, battler _par excellence,_ and a living legend who emerged from an unassuming young adulthood after coming of age to become the hero who ended the Darkest Day and revealed the truth about the ancient heroes of Galar. I am counted as one of the most talented and respected battlers in the entire world.

And right now I’m stranded on a snowy mountain; alone, well-bred, my belly so packed full of foals I can barely even move.

I didn’t exactly plan this.

It started out so simple—a vacation south of my hometown to the Crown Tundra, a land famed for its desolate snowy beauty. Legends say that a pokemon who ruled the whole region as king kept the tundra as the seat of his power, but I never put much stock in such tales.

Until I met the king, that is.

His name is Calyrex, and quite frankly, he’s a complete oaf. When I did something as simple as put seeds in a bag he acted as if I’d moved the moon. And despite once being powerful enough to keep the whole land bountiful and rich, he now struggles to grow a single bloom.

But I agreed to help him regain his lost stature nonetheless—the first unwitting step I took towards my current state.

He had a steed, once; a horse-like pokemon of immense power which terrorized the ancient tundra and made off with crops until Calyrex brought it to heel. We summoned it back once again, and I’ll admit, even a Champion like me gave pause. The legendary was enormous, almost twice the size of a young woman like me; a coat as white as fresh-fallen snow, hooves and tail clad in icy armor, a mask of the same resting on its brow.

I knew that it was an ancient legend, but I thought my team ready for it.

In fact, I was unprepared.

Glastrier (for that is what the legendary pokemon is called) rolled over my team. I expected it to dash away, make off with my food, or attack the nearby settlement—but it had something else in mind.

The equine charged me before I could even blink, hoisting me onto its back and sending my poke balls scattering into the snow. As I wailed in shock, Calyrex, watching from the sides, sent a telepathic urge to me:

“ _Ah, do be careful, my young friend! Glastrier wasn’t just feared in ancient times as a pillager of crops—the reason I was ultimately called to tame it was because it would make off with young women and have them bear its young!”_

Well, that was news to _me._ “It would _WHAT?!_ ” I screamed, though I don’t know if Calyrex heard my indignation. The moment Glastrier had me, we were off, swallowed by a blinding flurry of snow, and Calyrex and my poke balls were left behind.

Glastrier’s powers immediately shackled me to it in a cuff of ice, making escape impossible. I could only sit along for the ride as it led us a merry dance across the tundra, eventually ascending higher and higher and deeper and deeper into the mountains.

The whole time I was turning over my options in my head. This was decidedly Not Good. Finding my way back would be a problem, given how effective my captor was at twisting and turning to disguise its route; furthermore, hiking back what was looking to be several _dozen_ miles in frigid conditions with neither supplies nor a team would amount to suicide.

To say nothing of the thing’s intentions towards me, if Calyrex was telling true. Damn that little rabbit… deer… thing. It’s one thing to fight a powerful creature expecting to get roughed up a little if you lose—it’s another entirely if you know the stakes are getting knocked up with its offspring! I probably wouldn’t have agreed to help if I’d known _that_ going in.

After climbing even higher and making it through a warren of snaking tunnels, we made it to the high peak. Set into it were gorgeously decaying ruins; even then, I could scarcely appreciate them. I was shuddering from the cold and almost _heaving_ for breath for how thin the air was.

Glastrier stopped and unceremoniously dumped me on a makeshift bed of thick hay, the cuffs crumbling into powder. I curled up against myself to protect from the cold, teeth chattering as I fought for air.

Regarding me for a moment, Glastrier pawed the ground with one heavy icy hoof, and then—

I felt ambient power wash over me, settling deep into my pores and my bones, and suddenly the cold was _gone_ and I could breathe just fine.

Legendaries, huh? Is there anything they can’t do?

I didn’t have much time to reflect on Glastrier’s gesture, however, as the humongous horse tromped over to me. Reaching down with its mask, the unicorn-like protrusion at the end caught my clothes.

The ice was more razor-edged than I realized, and Glastrier more dexterous. In just a few yanks and jerks, my clothes were ribbons, leaving me naked and bare.

If there was any doubt as to why it had stolen me, those doubts were now expelled.

I chanced a look at my captor again. If I’d thought it intimidating before when I was a Champion with a team ready to do battle, then looking at it as I was now, vulnerable and exposed, truly put it into perspective. Glastier had several feet on me, easy; its icy hooves moved with an incredible weight, and yet also with an ease which spoke to the pokemon’s strength. Its rippled muscles would have easily matched the likes of the mightiest Tyranitar or Nidoking, and the brilliant blue ice of its mask was both chilling and marvelous to behold. And what’s more, the power which seeped into me to protect me from the cold and thin air played about the entire ruin, omnipresent and dominating. There could be little doubt—this was not merely a powerful pokemon. This creature was close to a god in its own right.

And it was very, _very_ obviously interested in me.

The equine member hanging between its legs was quickly showing itself. From a sheath that no sane person would consider modest came a massive penis, thick and broad, the tip flat and nearly as big around as the rest of it, the fluid dribbling from its tip clear and sharp-smelling.

It wasn’t just the pokemon’s pre that I could smell. The whole mountaintop smelled abruptly of wild sex, Glastrier’s need asserting itself as a thick, domineering musk that nearly even managed to drown out the tide of its ambient power. The musk was wild, both pungent and exhilarating, and it made me shiver in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.

Its eyes alit on me behind that icy mask, and it shook its head, whinnying with approval. If what Calyrex said was right, this thing was no stranger to choosing mates among humans, and it clearly liked what it saw.

It took a step towards me, and then another.

…have you ever imagined such a scenario? Alone, helpless, completely at the mercy of a creature that has designs like that on you? I was the Champion of Galar, one of the most powerful trainers in the world, and that didn’t matter one bit. Alone on that mountain, all that mattered was that Glastrier wanted me and I had no chance of stopping it. I couldn’t have possibly fought back against such a titanic specimen, nor could I have talked it down or convinced it otherwise. Escaping was laughable; me, naked and lost, outpace a deific _horse_ in its own territory?

Glastrier was going to have me one way or the other, so swallowing my pride and feeling frustration burning in the back of my throat, I did what was easiest for both of us.

I surrendered myself to it.

As I shakily maneuvered onto my hands and knees, raising my rump and spreading my legs as far as they could go, Glastrier whinnied again in approval, the sound almost seeming to echo throughout the ruins. It clip-clopped over to me, every step echoing with the _clink_ of enchanted ice. I felt its presence before I ever noticed its shadow fall over me, an intangible sensation of nearness and power. My breath picked up as the steed stepped over me, its body enshadowing mine and its hooves placed mere inches from my clenched hands.

Its cock head brushed my outer lips and I nearly jumped. Oh merciful heavens, Glastrier was _big—_ as big as you’d expect a horse over seven feet to be. Gods and spirits, could such a thing conceivably _fit_ in a woman?

It held there for almost a full minute, maddening; the anticipation making me tense and worry. I just wanted it over with.

Finally, Glastrier sunk in.

The spread was _incredible._ Not only was Glastrier far larger than any person could ever hope to be, its flared equine head was broad. There was no tapering of it, no gently working into the breadth; I had to suddenly endure its girth almost in its entirety.

I tried desperately to make it as easy for both of us as possible, doing whatever I could to make myself yield just a little bit more to it. It was a fool’s errand. It was so huge, and my virgin hole so tight, that it was like forcing a sausage through a pinhole—but the pinhole _had_ to give.

And give I did.

My cunt parted around the legend’s cock bit by bit, the sensation completely destroying me and leaving me quivering in the snow. Despite the fact that it was going far too fast for me, Glastrier didn’t act with my concern, only its own; and before long, my mind aflame with overstimulation and newfound sexual bliss, I was accommodating as much horse cock as I possibly could.

Then, satisfied that I was ready to take what it had, it _really_ started giving it to me.

Glastrier is a god, or close enough to it. An embodiment of the capricious wild, the unforgiving might of glaciers and winter incarnate. To be fucked by such a being was… beyond anything I could have imagined.

I was quickly reduced to quivering there in the snow, my mind so blank from the sheer massiveness of Glastrier’s cock that I couldn’t even find the brainpower to be thankful for my new immunity to cold. I was just left there, helpless under its weight, as it took me again and again. Its incredible hugeness claimed every inch of my cunt, sending a mix of pleasure and pain oscillating through me with every thrust, the sensation so dominant and all-consuming that I could do nothing but just take it.

The legendary fucked me like it hadn’t had a good lay in years—and for all I knew, it hadn’t. It kept up a blistering, impossible pace which only a mighty pokemon could have given. I was distantly aware that some woman’s voice was lifting over the ruins in a mixture of sobs and absolute euphoric bliss; I knew on some level the voice was mine. How many minutes did I spend riding that giant thing’s cock? I couldn’t tell you. All I know is that when it finally slammed home, holding in me, the cock head flaring open, Glastier arched its head back and released a triumphant whinny—

And then its seed flooded me.

And oh god—it was _cold._

I gasped at the sudden icy bite inside of me, the sensation of Glastrier’s cold seed filling up my most intimate places, seeping into my womb. Even despite the resounding ache of having to take its hugeness, this was like nothing I’d experienced or expected.

The absence as Glastrier yanked free was both sudden and encompassing, and my legs turned to jelly. Naked and seeping pokemon cum, I curled up against myself and let my mind reel from the aftermath.

But I didn’t have too long to reflect on what had just happened. Glastrier fucked me again a few hours later—and then again later that night. And then the next morning.

We never really stopped after that.

It was gone throughout the day, retrieving food for us—pillaged crops, mostly, but also berries and the like. I ate what it had to give me and _took_ what it had to give me—there was little to do other than have loads and loads of sex.

I kept my dignity, or hoped I did. It didn’t break me. I still thought of myself as the Galar Champion, proud and strong, and this was just a temporary setback. But I did come to enjoy Glastrier’s cock, in my own way. Such a dominant, wild thing—when it uses you, it’s like fucking a storm.

Sometimes during Glastrier’s absence, I poked around my new cage. For cage it was—there were no bars on the ruin walls, but when I went beyond it, I could feel the cold of the mountain start to nip at me, could feel my lungs start to burn. Whatever enchantment Glastrier had worked to make me safe in its lair only worked in said lair—and unless I wanted to wander a snowy mountain peak alone, defenseless, and completely naked, I was good and stuck.

So I stayed put and spread my legs daily, my voice rising high over the crumbling stone like a good little mate. Glastrier seemed pleased with me and often neighed triumphantly after our trysts.

How long was I going to stay there? I was completely trapped without outside help, and the only being in the whole world who knew my predicament was Calyrex—and considering the doddering old god was awed by something as simple as seeds in a bag, it could very well be a while before I was finally found.

Amazingly enough, I didn’t ponder my predicament for too long. I had other concerns.

After all, it didn’t take long for me to start rounding out.

I’d expected as much. As much of a fool that Calyrex was, when he remembered that Glastrier had impregnated tundra women in the past, I believed him. Glastrier didn’t just want something to fuck—it wanted a broodmare, and it got one. I was young and fertile and healthy; I would breed well, and breed well I did.

If you think that normal pregnancy is hard, try getting knocked up with foals—yes, foals, _plural._ I started to show within a week or two, and not even two months after my abduction I was having to cradle my tummy as I walked, one hand on my back, the weight of my growing young completely debilitating.

Glastrier seemed to approve of my new condition, cantering around me excitedly and touching its icy mask to my tummy with surprising gentleness. Impossibly, it seemed to make the legend randier than ever; though we continued fucking several times a day, its pace increased, its pride seemed to encompass it more and more, and in the aftermath it paid heavy attention to my growing tummy.

The foals within grew active early. When not fucking Glastrier I was often left sitting down, round and plump, blushing and moaning from the sensation of my young inside of me. They tussled against each other, pressed exploratively against my womb, and their actions were always visible as bumps and presses against my growing tummy. My tits, too, ballooned early on, growing at least a full cup in size. They ached sweetly, perpetually tender, and dribbled milk. Glastrier was fascinated with them, and frequently nursed from me. I didn’t mind; it helped ease the ache.

The more I progressed, the more I was perversely happy that I was riding out my pregnancy with Glastrier. The thought of Galar seeing me like this—their proud Champion reduced to a swollen, blushing, moaning, milky broodmare stuffed full of baby pokemon—gave me pause. No, that wasn’t an option. Not at all.

Months passed and I swelled up ripe and Glastrier grew anxious with anticipation to see the foals, as did I—but always in the back of my head was that nagging feeling. Where _was_ Calyrex? My team? I still hadn’t given up on freeing myself; I’d resolved to raise the foals as both a mother _and_ a trainer, and when they were older and strong, I could use them to overcome their father if need be and claim my freedom.

But that would be years down the line, and the months I’d spent as a pokemon’s personal breeding pet were quite enough already, thank you.

Eventually, when Glastrier was out terrorizing the tundra and I was left to ponder my own gravidity, I heard a timid voice call out to me: _“Mistress! There you are!”_

I snapped up. Though it had been months, I still recognized him—and there he was, poking his head through a broken archway. Calyrex.

I was both ecstatic to see him—and furious.

“Well,” I said acidly as he approached, cradling my own swollenness, “pleased to see me like this, Calyrex?”

He shifted uncomfortably. _“I—I did warn you—”_

“Warn me?” I cut in, gritting my teeth as one of my foals acted up, kicking against my tummy, the action showing itself as a bump. “You ‘warned’ me that Glastrier would make me its own personal babymaker when I was already defeated, shackled, and being carried off to get stuffed with young!”

Calyrex didn’t have anything to say, but I felt a wave of apology from it, and I snorted.

“Whatever. Now this can finally end. Where’s my team?”

 _“We’ve been scouring the tundra for you, but it’s been hard going. The winter was exceptionally harsh this year, and there were so many places to search…_ ”

“Alright,” I grunted. “Alright. Here’s what we’re going to do.” Command came readily to me; naked and well-bred or not, I was still Galar’s Champion, and when I spoke, it was in a tone which brooked no argument. “Go fetch my team. Also bring supplies—food, poke balls, and _especially_ warm clothes. When Glastrier is captured, I might not be shielded from the elements anymore.”

_“C-captured? But I was hoping to reclaim my steed…”_

I silenced the kingly pokemon with a glare. “As the one who has spent the last several months getting railed by that stupid fucking horse on a daily basis,” I said, my tone so measured it could have sunk ships, “and as the one who is currently bearing Glastrier’s children because _someone_ didn’t tell her about the danger until it was too late, I think that I get priority when it comes to choosing the legendary’s fate.”

Calyrex swallowed, but didn’t argue, his eyes fixed on my tummy where the foals were still acting up, bumping and kicking. “Go do that and come back as soon as you can,” I said. “How fast do you think you can be here?”

 _“A day or two,”_ Calyrex told me.

I nodded. A day or two. I could deal with that. I’d spent months at Glastrier’s mercy, getting fucked and filled and bred. I could deal with a day or two more.

Calyrex returned the following night, my team in tow. Glastrier didn’t see them coming, but I did.

I saw my team tense in shock when they saw me. I was kneeling, one hand cradling my impossibly large belly, the other supporting Glastrier’s cock as it led to my mouth. The equine pokemon liked getting sucked off, and that’s what I was doing. I did it as eagerly as I ever did; between my planning session with Calyrex and his return with my team, I’d still fucked Glastrier just as willingly as I ever had. Sudden recalcitrance would have given the game away, and the fact remained that I was a puny human and it was a mighty pokemon god. It wouldn’t have accomplished anything anyway.

So it was that when my team showed up, Glastrier’s back was to the entryway, its voice shaking with orgasmic bliss as it came, and I was on my knees facing the other way, my cheeks bulging with biting frigid cum and my throat working as I dutifully swallowed whatever Glastrier had to give me. My foals were being quiet, but my incredible roundness was still eyecatching, and I could see my team reeling at the sight.

I didn’t care. In fact, I started exulting in my mind even as I continued gulping down Glastrier’s cum. The hour was at hand.

The moment Glastrier was spent, I pulled back, swallowed, wiped my mouth, and ordered my team to attack.

My captor tensed in sudden shock and surprise, and then it was mobbed from behind by a team of six.

The fight was still close. Glastrier was still a legendary, and it gave one hell of a fight—in fact it fought even more hellishly, I think, because it defiantly wanted to ‘protect’ its ‘mate.’ It didn’t matter. As my team wore it down, I painstakingly made my way over to the bag that Calyrex was proffering, and then, moments after my Arcanine drove the icy steed back with a puff of flame, I judged it weak enough.

An Ultra Ball soared through the air, sucked Glastrier inside, and after a few furious shakes, clicked shut.

And that was that. The roles had reversed. Now _I_ had Glastrier at _my_ mercy.

My Tyrantrum picked up the ball delicately in his jaws and deposited it to me. Smirking down at it, I thought about saying something acid—but then shook my head. Instead, I pulled my long-missed Rotom Phone out of my bag and with a few button presses, Glastrier’s ball was digitized and sent to the PC box.

I punched in special instructions for it to never be interacted with or let out. Let the damn thing rot in the datascape, never getting free, forever.

My team crowded around me, baying with worry, and I smiled—and then my eyes widened.

It was happening gradually, but the cold was returning.

I threw on as many layers of my old cothing as I could and then, with my team’s help, I left behind the ruins and made it down the mountain.

It’s been a few days since my rescue. We’re bunked in a snug cave at the mountain’s foot. The air is breathable at this level, and the cold less biting, especially with Arcanine to warm me up. I spend most of my time resting, preparing mentally and physically for the birth.

Glastrier’s foals are _quite_ active, after all.

I’m still going to bear and train them—if they’re as strong as their father, they could make for useful teammates, and I’m not so heartless as to consign them to the same digital existence as their sire. I’m no expert, but birthing day is perhaps a week away.

After that, I’ll return to civilization and resume my place as Champion. And if Calyrex wants to reclaim his so-called ‘throne,’ he can do it on his _own_ time.

\---

The birthing came not soon after, and Gloria’s sobs echoed through the caverns. In the aftermath she was left weary, barely cogent, but she still smiled when her foals tottered over to her and began to nurse.

There were two, and though one was the spitting image of its sire, the other was a curious creature—ebony black, with an amethyst colored mane and strangely ethereal hooves. As Gloria stroked its wispy mane, she marveled at it.

A little more than a week after the birth, both mother and young were finally ready to move about. With her team shepherding her and her foals cantering playfully at her heels, Gloria returned to civilization, spinning a not-entirely-untruthful tale about being stranded in the mountains during a particularly harsh Crown Tundra winter. Galar marveled at the miraculous return of its Champion, and before long, her time on the mountain was like a distant dream to her, something she barely recollected.

But though she would never admit it, such an ordeal is not so easily cast aside. Gloria _had_ changed, even if she didn’t want to admit it, and though it took years, eventually the Galarian hero ended up laying with pokemon again, this time members of her own team—and as before, she started to swell with young.

But that, perhaps, is a story for another time.


End file.
